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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27811978">saturn, sleep on (a heaven he lost)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatWeirdGuyInTheBushes/pseuds/ThatWeirdGuyInTheBushes'>ThatWeirdGuyInTheBushes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Dream Team SMP Spoilers, Everyone Needs A Hug, Evil Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, Insane Wilbur Soot, Repetition, Scars, So much angst, Toby Smith | Tubbo Angst, Toby Smith | Tubbo Needs a Hug, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), thats literally all this is</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:14:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,321</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27811978</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatWeirdGuyInTheBushes/pseuds/ThatWeirdGuyInTheBushes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This is how it starts- the world is born of his past.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>L'Manberg's six leaders, as told by their scars.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>No shipping - Relationship, dont be weird - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>227</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>saturn, sleep on (a heaven he lost)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>"And still these two were postured motionless,<br/>Like natural sculpture in cathedral cavern;<br/>The frozen God still couchant on the earth,<br/>And the sad Goddess weeping at his feet:<br/>Until at length old Saturn lifted up<br/>His faded eyes, and saw his kingdom gone."</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> This is how it starts- the world is born of his past. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Dream has enough scars for three lifetimes. He slew the great dragon, he fought his only friends. He is more blemish than flesh. They are etched down his back, scrawled over his skin, painted across the bridge of his nose as a remnant of a lost duel.</p><p> </p><p>He ran the length of the world and it made his heart race, gave him life. But those deeds are done, his wounds healed.</p><p> </p><p>An itch forms under his skin, in settlement. Unscratchable, no relief. George asks him, sometimes, if he regrets giving it up- if he would ever trade the power for the thrill. And Dream puts a smile in his voice and says no because that is what George wants to hear.</p><p> </p><p>Dream watches the stars and sighs from his stomach.</p><p> </p><p>Wilbur is the water to Dream’s grease fire. His very existence is a blight on the land. He is a boil and a gnat on the kingdom and Dream could never thank him enough for it. He crushes Wilbur and his pathetic ideas of revolution under a thousand sticks of dynamite, and there is nothing more satisfying than the look that passes over Wilbur’s face as he realizes he’s doomed.</p><p> </p><p>Dream laughs, manic and angry and <em> alive. </em></p><p> </p><p>War leaves him unharmed because he is the only person in the world that it fears too much to graze.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> This is how it ends- their freedom is born by his laughter. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> - </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> This is how it starts- a nation is born in his hands. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Wilbur Soot has four scars of note. This number will increase, but that is for the second act.</p><p> </p><p>These are the causes, in order of when they happened (Ascending); Sparring with his brother, a smashed potion bottle, his newborn son’s claws, and the title of King.</p><p> </p><p>Wilbur has never been a man for blood, drawn or spilt. In truth, he is idealism in it’s purest form, undiluted. He is a revolutionary, he is an idea, he is the heart of a people at the centre of four walls. He had spent his life before them grasping for a place in the history books and he will spend his life with them searching for a spot in every chapter.</p><p> </p><p>He has three scars of note on the day he arrives. This number will increase by one on the day before he gets his freedom. It will increase by one more on the day that he loses it.</p><p> </p><p>Wilbur Soot is not a man for lingering. He is not built to dwell, to nurse the past back to life. He has never been a man for violence, never a man for scars, and perhaps this was why power and he were an unstable concoction, why they were always destined to go supernova. Because he built his country on open wounds and expected them to scab like cuts.</p><p> </p><p>He built his country on open wounds and did not clean them. He should not have been surprised when infection set in. He built his country with men who believed in healing. He should not have been surprised when he had to chop away the unsalvagable pieces by himself.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> This is how it ends- his nation is lost to his faults. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> - </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> This is how it starts- a nation is dropped at his feet. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Schlatt has no scars to speak of. This number will increase, but that is for the second act. He is a meticulously sculpted image of power.</p><p> </p><p>Here are the reasons behind that, in order of importance (Ascending); The desire to be noticed, insatiable greed, hunger for respect, and a daunting fear that he will die quietly.</p><p> </p><p>His first scar is not meant to be his. It is a glancing blow from a firework that he can hide beneath his suit, but which crawls with bitter fire ants and screams with unbelonging. His second scar is intended and sits heavy on his shoulder, given by a very different crossbow.</p><p> </p><p>Schlatt has never been a man for kindness, given or received. If someone needs to stay by your side, they will. Want is no basis for an alliance, not if it’s going to last. Alex needs power. Tubbo needs work. Fundy needs to be respected.</p><p> </p><p>He helps them. He gives them what they need. The world would call that kindness, wouldn’t it? He was fairly elected and he gave them what he knew they needed from him, and they still dared to call him cruel. Unjust.</p><p> </p><p>He sits on the floor of a trailer, drinking till his fingers are numb. When the door clicks open, he tries to stand and kicks over an empty bottle. It cracks. This is his third scar.</p><p> </p><p>He spits and screams and does not go gently. He curses and fights and wonders why he ever thought these people would be smart enough to pick out the parasites while they still could. He looks at Tommy and reminds the child that if he dies, the country goes down too. But he’s not thinking of Tommy. He’s thinking of Wilbur.</p><p> </p><p>This is why they should rely on need. He chokes on schadenfreude and knows that by the time his body is cold the ground beneath it will be all but gone.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> This is how it ends- the captain takes the ship down with him. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> - </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> This is how it starts- a nation is tossed into fumbling hands. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Tommy has too many scars to count, but only one is important. It sits on his chest, a small star, surrounded by nicks and scrapes and picked at scabs.</p><p> </p><p>Here are the reasons Tommy does not become president, in order of when he thinks them (Ascending); He does not deserve it, he has unfinished business, it is too much responsibility, and he will end up like Wilbur.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> This is how it ends- a circle back to the start. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> - </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> This is how it starts- his feet travel on instinct. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Wilbur knows what needs to happen next.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> This is how it ends- the ship goes down together. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> - </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Tubbo has three scars that matter. Here are those scars, labelled by their giver and ordered by severity (Ascending); George, Sapnap, Technoblade.</p><p> </p><p>The fireworks have left a tapestry. Sometimes, he can almost imagine that the colours of them leaked into the wounds, that it is something beautiful and full of life. Painted across his chest, scattered over his face and collarbones, the little sparks and Ponk’s quiet voice telling him he’s lucky he closed his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>At least it has covered the other two memories. The sword in his stomach and the almost-too-deep line across his throat.</p><p> </p><p>Before he goes up on stage, Tubbo breathes in deeply. Presses his hands down. Deflates himself. His bones ache, his stomach turns. There is a feeling under his scars, some lightened shade of grief. The victory has not quite settled in.</p><p> </p><p>He speaks. He finds Niki in the crowd and there is a smile and a memory that still somehow tastes sweet, of baking a cake for Wilbur’s birthday. He thought that kind of happiness was past its expiration date, that every image involving Wilbur had long-since gone sour.</p><p> </p><p>Tubbo’s fourth scar of importance is a piece of shrapnel that grazes his arm. It is given by Wilbur, and it is ranked the most important. Not because it is worse. But because it is given by a friend.</p><p> </p><p>Wilbur is dead. The grief tastes like spoiled milk and bile. Technoblade is gone. The relief is sickening in its impermanence.</p><p> </p><p>All scabs have been picked. All old wounds reopened. White steam settles over the crater as cool lake water touches the burning hot stone. Tommy has more important things to do. Phil is already gone. Tubbo’s scars pull as he puts on a uniform that he will never grow into.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> This is how it starts- the world is born of his past. </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>the title and quote are from the poem Hyperion by John Keats</p><p> </p><p>i really appreciate comments<br/>thank you for reading (:</p></blockquote></div></div>
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